SONGSHOTS! FMA Style
by dani-pandy
Summary: I take songs and write one shots for the FMA characters that fit the lyrics. I can't garuntee everyone is on here but eh...I think they're good.


**A/N: The first of my song fic series for FMA. I am so happy. Okay, so the song is "Cup Of Coffee" By Garbage and this is about Jean Havoc. It fits him well I think. Enjoy and feedback please!**

I don't own the song or FMA._

* * *

_

_You tell me you don't love me_

_Over a cup of coffee_

_And I just have to look away_

_

* * *

_

"Listen, It's not you it's me." She half-heartedly smiled at the blonde before her. "It's just…Jean, You're a great guy and everything its just...I met this other guy last night, Roy Mustang. He swept me off my feet ya know?" She reached out and took one of her hands in his. "Are you gonna be okay Jean?"

Jean nodded and looked down into his half-empty coffee cup. "Y-yeah. I hope you and Roy are happy together Misty." He glanced up and forced a pained smile at her.

"Okay. I should go…I hope we still stay very close friends Jean." She stood. " I'll stop by later and get my things from your house alright? "

Jean sighed sadly while watching her leave through the window, his hand on the engagement ring Misty left for him to take back on the table.

* * *

_A million miles between us_

_Planets crashing to dust_

_I just let it fade away…_

_

* * *

_

_I'm walking empty streets_

_Hoping we might meet…_

_I see your car parked on the road_

_The light on at your window_

_I know for sure that your home _

_But I just have to pass on by_

_

* * *

_

He sulked as he walked through the rain.

Jean slowed his pace and stared. Across the street he saw Roy's black mustang parked outside her house, the living room light on…two silhouettes in the window dancing to what he imagined was once their song. He pulled his soaked jacket around him and trudged home, the rain as a constant reminder that he was alone.

* * *

_So no of course we can't be friends_

_Not while I'm still this obsessed_

_I guess I always knew the score_

_This is how our story ends…_

_I smoke your brand of cigarettes_

_And pray that you might give me a call_

_

* * *

_

Jean sat in his kitchen eyeing the telephone on the wall. On the table laid a pack of cigarettes… On the counter there were at least three more packs …upstairs in his coat pocket there was a pack and there even was one in his car, his addiction to the nicotine was the only thing keeping him sane right now.

He took a long drag from the lit cigarette held to his lips and sighed. "Call me?" He whispered while he grinded out the cigarette and proceeded to light a new one. _I just want to hear your voice…_

* * *

_I lie around in bed all day_

_Just staring at the walls…_

_Hanging 'round bars at night_

_Wishing I had never been born…_

_And I give myself to anyone _

_Who wants to take me home…_

_

* * *

_

Jean sat at the bar with Breda and Falman.

"Barkeep!" He sang. "Another one on the double!" He slightly waved his bottle around.

"Don't you think you've had enough Havo? " Breda eyed him suspiciously. "That's like your fifth one in the past hour."

Jean turned to him angrily. "S-shut it! Shut… just shut up!" He pointed at him with the hand holding the bottle. "I know when I've had enough!"

Falman took the bottle away from him. "Come on buddy let's get you home." He slipped an arm underneath his drunken friend's much to his constant protests.

* * *

_So no of course we can't be friends _

_Not while I still feel like this_

_I guess I always knew the score _

_This is where our story ends…_

* * *

_You left behind some clothes _

_My belly summersaults when I pick them off the floor…_

* * *

He sat on the floor clutching her nightgown to his chest. It still smelled like her. He closed his eyes unaware that a few tears began to fall onto the fabric in his hands. _"_I miss you so much!"He sobbed loudly. _More than you'll ever know..._

* * *

_My friends all say their worried…_

_I'm looking far too skinny_

_I've stopped returning their calls. _

_

* * *

_

Hughes barged in, with Breda and Falman in tow. "Jean!"

Jean looked up from the floor where he was laying. "What?"

"What's been going on with you? You're not eating, you're not sleeping, you quit coming to the office…you ignore Roy when he calls…"

"Leave me alone." He turned away from them.

The other three exchanged worried glances.

Hughes and Breda each grabbed one of his arms.

"Hey!" Jean yelled from the sudden jolt.

Hughes turned back to Falman. "Call Hawkeye, we're having an intervention. "

* * *

_And no of course we can't be friends_

_Not while I'm still this obsessed_

_

* * *

_

He sat beside Fuery looking directly ahead at the scene before him. "Why am I even here?" He mumbled.

Fuery looked at him sadly. "Because they said it would help you get over her and not be mad at Roy anymore if you did?" He paused. "And Misty and Roy invited you because you've been friends with them for years?"

"It's not working." He stood, mid ceremony and walked out. _They're not my friends…I __**hate**__ them._

* * *

_I want to ask where I went wrong_

_But I don't say nothing at all…_

He unlocked the door to his car and got in, the door making a satisfying slamming noise when he did so. " I hate you! "Jean screamed. He turned the key in the ignition and sped out of the parking lot, leaving behind his friends in a cloud of exhaust.

* * *

_It took a cup of coffee_

_To prove you don't love me._

_

* * *

_

Jean sat once again at the café and stared into a cup of coffee. He sighed sadly.

* * *

**TA-DA! Stay tuned~**


End file.
